Come, man, enough of stuffing; your pockets can hold no more, so press on with me." "It grieves me sorely to leave behind so much good pabulum," he explained, eying still the few morsels left.

"It would be well, to my judgment, did you pack the rest of this providential supply." Never pausing to answer, I crept between the spreading wooden limbs, and, with the expenditure of no small effort, succeeded in wriggling into the narrow hole beyond.

It was a cramped passage for a man of my girth, yet, by digging in firmly with both hands and feet, I managed to advance, until I finally emerged, within space of perhaps a yard, into a much larger excavation, resembling the tunnel we had previously traversed.
"Now, Master Cairnes," I spoke back encouragingly, "it is only a short distance to good footing; so take fresh breath and come on." His massive head completely shut out the faint light of the narrow opening, and I heard heavy breathing as the fellow squeezed his broad shoulders through the hole.

There followed sounds of violent struggle during his slow and painful advance.
"By all the prophets and the patriarchs," he groaned wearily, "'tis not in me to make it! Had I endeavored this before eating I could have slipped through, scarcely touching either side.

But now I am scraped like a pig for the feast.